All I Want For Christmas Is Pie

Things banged around in the dark cupboard, literally and figuratively, and Katya was having a fun enough time though by no means was her world utterly rocked as she’d been hoping. Their tight quarters might have played a part in that, to be fair, and when Pie Bloke suggested they go again at his place she shrugged in acceptance. “Ya mog by poyti na druguyu zakusku,” she said mostly to herself. She could practically hear the confidence in his voice and wondered if it was unsubstantiated ego speaking or if he knew from experience that having a mop pole rammed against your arse made for lousy foreplay. “But first, I cannot find my shoe,” she said as she pulled her jeans up over her knickers and adjusted the waist to fasten them. She’d only removed the one boot to get her trousers off enough to partake in the fun but in the shuffle it had been knocked under a shelf and lost to the darkness. If she had to hobble out of the pub with mussed up hair and a single shoe on, then she would do so confidently and tell anyone judging her to fuck off, but she really liked these boots.

He lit his wand as he began asking after her murmuring and Katya couldn’t help but laugh. She fastened the top button on her jeans and pulled up the zip. Most people who didn’t speak her language just assumed she was insulting them in her native tongue, and sometimes they were correct in their assumptions. Other times Katya just didn’t think about it. She thought in Russian, so why bother speaking anything else if she was only speaking to herself? “Glupyy mal'chik, ne zadavay voprosov, otvety na kotoryye tebe ne nuzhny. I wouldn’t mind more of appetizer.” She raised his other hand to her face and ran her tongue along the side of his index finger before taking the whole of it in her mouth. “Do you want Russian lesson or should we use our mouths in more exuberant ways?”

Men were so easy and this one was no exception, but he was fun, and Katya didn’t mind enjoying herself after a long day’s work. She was pressed up against the shelf once more but Zack appeared to have thought better of it and suggested they go elsewhere. She was all for the idea though mourning the loss of her boot would be long-lasting. They were really sodding cute. With one hand she reached around him in the dark and found the door knob, and with the other she bent over and pulled her remaining boot off, shrinking a few inches in the process. At least now she wouldn’t be limping out of the pub. With the light from the hallway making the contents of the cupboard visible, Katya gave a quick look on the floor but she still could not find her boot. Had a bloody niffler stolen it or something? Kat shrugged and gave Zack a look that said she didn’t care too much, then headed down the stairs back to the populated pub. As they passed by the bar, Katya stopped and plopped her boot onto the bar for the barkeeper. “The other is in broom cupboard upstairs.” She then promptly carried on as if it was a completely normal thing to announce that you’d lost part of your outfit in a closet and while with a man with a very noticeable hardon.